Perfection
by Hugz Kissez
Summary: They say I'm weird(I'mnotweirdjustdying). I wear the wrong things(blackonblackonblack), and I say the wrong things(helpmesavemeI'mdrowning), and I do the wrong things(hidemyscarshidehidehide). Maybe they're right(maybeI'mwrong). My mother says I should come out of my room more. So she sent me here. A boarding school. In England. (God help me.)


_Perfection_

_(And you're just __fallingfallingfalling__, and there's no one to catch you when[__if__] you reach the ground)_

They say I'm weird_(I'mnotweirdjust__dying__)_. I wear the wrong things_(blackonblackonblack)_, and I say the wrong things_(helpmesavemeI'm__drowning__)_, and I do the wrong things_(hidemyscarshidehide__hide__)_. Maybe they're right_(maybeI'mwrong)_.

My mother says I should come out of my room more. Why would I want to come out when I can stay inside andhidecuthide? So she sent me here. A boarding school. In England. Thousands away from what I know, where I feel safesafesafe_(eventhoughIreallydon't)._

I look up at the large house, looming in front of me, jeering at me. _(You're not good enough, you'll never be good enough) _Forcing my feet to walk up the steps, forcing my hand to knock on the door. My sleeve comes up a little, and I shove it back down_(neverletthemseehowweakyoureallyare)._

A woman answers the door, someone with a bright smile and brown dimples and a warm, kind expression. I shrink back into my hooded sweatshirt. _(itallbeganwithsmiles)_ " Oh, you must be the new student! I'm Trudy Rehmann, your house mother."

Behind her is a man, staring_(glaring)_ at me_(through me). _" And I am Victor Rodemarr, the house caretaker." I listen to him say something about an attic_(atticsaredustyandforgotten__likeyou__)_ and a cellar, and some rules. But all I really want to know is where the bathrooms are. I haven't cut since I got off the plane, and the urge is gnawing at me, eating me, destroying me. _(scarsareweakness,neverletthemseeweakness)_

Finally he stops talking, and the woman_(Trudy)_ leads me up the stairs, and to a room. She says it's mine(not all mine, I have roommates), but I can't see how something this colorful could ever be mine_(one-third mine)_. One side is pink and beautiful and _gorgeous_, and the other side is a bit more understated, but still just as wonderful.

Back home_(not home, __hell__)_, it was always _blackonblackonblack(with splashes of red)_. No pictures of friends_(whoneedsfriendswhenyou'vegotblades?)_, no pictures of family_(theydon'tcarethey__nevercared)_, no pictures of pets or stuffed animals or trips to the zoo_(andnowit'stoolate)_.

Here, there's everything I never had, and more, in this room alone, and it's _toomuch_. I wait until Trudy stops talking, and ask where the bathrooms are. She shows me to them, then leaves me, saying, " It will be time for dinner soon, I need to go finish cooking," and leaves, bustling back down the stairs. _(everyoneleavessoonerorlater)_

I lock the door, and wiggle the handle just in case; it doesn't turn, and I am safe_(notreally)_. I retrieve a clear plastic bag from my purse and pull out one of the bloodstained blades. Once meant for a lifetime sharpening pencils, now repurposed to serve my shallow needs. _(you are __weak__, you __don't matter__, __no one cares__)_

Slice. Slice. Slice. I slide the small piece of metal over my upper arm three times, watching as the blood slowly trickles from the cuts into the sink. I clean up using a baby wipe from a box in my purse and water from the sink. After I pull down my sleeve, there is no evidence of what just took place except the fresh scars, now hidden._(Now, isn't that better?)_

Then I head back to the room with the colors and pictures and _life(everythingyoudon'thave)_. I fold my clothes, all long-sleeved tees and hoodies and sweatshirts that are baggy and _blackonblackonblack_, just like everything else I own. They go in the drawer in the corner of the room, next to the bed and empty space.

I fold my thoughts the same way, putting them away neatly in the drawers of my mind and locking them up tight in preparation of the meeting with my new housemates_(torturers, I'm tourtured)_.

When I'm done, I sit on my bed and curl up in a ball, staring off into space until my moment of solitude_(mental beration)_ is interrupted by a loud chattering downstairs. I catch snippets of conversation: " -So, she was like, ' Yeah, so what?'..." " –toria Beckham is…" " –Soo hungry…".

I don't come downstairs, but I hear voices and footsteps coming up. A blonde girl enters the room_(pretty;notlikeyou)_, followed by a dirty blonde and a brown haired boy. The boy and dirty blonde notice me first, and tap the blonde on the shoulder. They stare. I stare back.

I know they're judging me; I don't blame them. I'm not pretty. I have blue eyes that look dead_(liketherestofme)_, stick straight _blackonblackonblack_ hair, and a small, petite figure that makes it easy to _hidehidehide_. I shake my hair over my face, hiding behind it, and turn away. I am about to speak.

" I suppose you are wondering who I am." I begin, watching_(gauging)_ their reactions out of the corner of my eye. Shock, surprise, confusion.

" I wonder that myself. I did have a name, once, but it was not suited to me, so I changed it. Now they call me Deidre, sadness, sorrow, among other names. You may call me these as well.

" You are also wondering why I am here. I was sent to this school for…certain reasons I needn't broach at this time. I ended up here, in this house, in this room, and here we are.

" And as to what I'm like… no one needs to know. My alias should give enough clues. I have told enough. Goodbye." I turned towards the wall and curled back up, returning to my previous task. _(Hated, unloved, nothingnothingnothing…)_

" I'm Amber, he's Fabian, and she's Nina. It's nice to meet you!", the blonde_(Amber)_ said to my back. But before she could say more, a call from downstairs cut her off. " Dinner!"

They start to walk out of the room, but pause at the door when they realize I'm not behind them. " Aren't you hungry?"_(theydon'tcare__noonecares__)_

I shake my head, but they persist. " You have to eat. Plus I'm sure everyone else wants to meet you!"_(worthlessgood-for-__nothing__)_

I can tell this tug of war can go on all night, and I stand up, hair still covering my face. Shuffling along behind them, I follow them to a room filled with people eating, talking, and laughing_(noisenoisenoise)_. The sound fades away as each person looks up and notices me._(not__worth__it)_

" This is Deirdre…something, and she's a new student!" Amber says brightly. " Hi Deirdre," they chorus, then go back to their conversations and _happiness(whatis"__happiness__")_

I am led to a seat just next to the table, and sit down. I stare at the plate of food in front of me: spaghetti and meatballs. I pick up my fork, then set it down again._(fatskinnyugly__freak__)_

" Hey, aren't you going to eat?" a girl asks. She is in _blackonpurpleonblack_. I shake my head in reply. " Why not?"

Before I can answer, a meatball flies across the table and hits a boy with brown skin. At the other side, a boy with a mischievous expression and blonde hair smirks and opens his mouth to speak; he is abruptly cut off by another meatball that misses its target and hits the girl next to me_(blackonpurpleonblack)_.

Suddenly food is flying everywhere, and the food turns to missiles and bombs and bullets, and I _havehavehave_ to escape, and I run towards the door, but am struck in the back._(you'regoingto__die__) _

I clutch the doorframe for a moment, then run upstairs, to the bathroom. Behind me, I hear the cries and cheers and yells as people are hit; they don't notice I am gone_(toofargone)._

I make my way to the bathroom and lock the door. Slice. Slice. Wipe. Rinse. When I am done_(donewithit__all__)_, I walk out and go to the room._(wasteofspacetimeenergy)_

Curled up on my bed, I feel safe_(notsafescaredscared__scared__). _I bury myself under masses of blankets, creating a suffocating_(chokingdrowning)_ burrow where I can hide from the world_(butnotmyself)_.

A little while later, the girls from earlier come in. They don't notice me cocooned in blankets_(whywouldtheyyou're__worthless__)_, and chat and talk and laugh_(allthethingsyou__used__todo)_.

Then I realize I am not as unnoticed as I thought, for they are speaking to me now. " Hey, are you okay? You ran out of there pretty fast." The dir- _Nina_ says.

" I'm fine," I reply, and repeat the word softly, calling up its brother and sister words. _(fine, okay, good, alright.) _Maybe I can trick myself into believing my own lies._(or maybe that's the biggest lie of all)_

" Hmm?" Nina asks, and I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head. " Nothing."_(lieslieslies__)_

Eventually they settle down to sleep, after many questions thrown to each other and me("What's your favorite color?" "Red."_[thecolorofblood]_).

And my sleep is filled with tears, and nightmares, and negativity. _(notgoodenough)(worthless)(broken)(__saveme__)_

_(fallingfallingfalling)_


End file.
